Hogwarts Compendium: a BIC Collection
by J. Maria
Summary: BIC challenge fics set in the magical world of Harry Potter. Multiple characters & pairings.
1. Six Geese A Layin: 21 for 21

Title: Six Geese A Layin'  
Series: 21 for 21  
Author: jmaria  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: J.K. owns them, I just play with them.  
Pairing: Tonks/Lupin  
Three Words Prompt: Christmas, mistletoe, snow  
Word Count: 692  
Summary: Some holiday spirit to lighten Remus mood.  
Notes: 21 for 21 is my insane plan to write 21 ficlets for my birthday. . . except that people on lj give me a pairing and three words.  
Count: 6/21  
Dedication: to vikingwriter for the characters and the three words

__

Six Geese A Layin'

Nymphadora Tonks had an arm strewn over Charlie Weasley's shoulders as the two former schoolmates tried to sing _The Twelve Days of Christmas_ through their drunken stupor. They'd started the celebration at 12 Grimmauld Place a little earlier than anyone, taking shots of Ogden's Firewhiskey and singing Christmas carols. That was how Remus found them, fumbling to remember what came sixth.

"Six gobbers droolin'?" Tonks asked.

"Six goblins - Lupin, wha's that sixth t'ing?" Charlie called, noticing the man before Tonks.

Remus smiled tiredly at them, wishing he could be that young and carefree again. It reminded him a bit of the Marauders. He sighed.

"It's six geese a laying," he replied. "Where's Sirius got to?"

"Bed - was a bit depressed that we drank him under the table," Tonks said proudly.

"And with that, Nymphie, I think I'm gonna turn in too."

"Bloody bunch of wimps!" Tonks swatted at Charlie as he pushed his chair back. She grinned over at Remus, "You'll keep me company, won't you?"

"I suppose I could spare a few moments."

"That's the spirit!" she grinned, pouring him a drink.

"You're just like your cousin," Remus mused.

"Sirius? Nah, he's too tame," Tonks laughed, sipping at her drink.

They spent the next half hour talking about their day and some funny drinking stories. At one point, she was laughing so hard that she had to lean on him to keep from falling out of her seat. Remus stiffened a bit in his seat at the casual contact. It had been a long time since someone had touched him. The werewolf stigma and all.

"Look at that, it's snowing!" Tonks nearly knocked her seat over trying to get to the kitchen door.

"Nymphadora, you haven't got any shoes on," Remus laughed, catching her by the waist before she could even cross the threshold.

"That's half the fun, Moony," she said breathlessly turning towards him.

For a moment, their eyes caught, held and refused to be budged even though the icy wind was blowing tiny flakes of snow through the open doorway. Tonks smiled up at him, which made him frown.

"What?"

"Mistletoe," she said pointing.

"Oh, erm, well, I -"

"Its tradition, Moony," Tonks grinned, standing on her tip-toes in order to put her mouth on the same level as his.

Her lips were soft but insistent, coaxing him to relax. Her hands had gone up around his neck and her body was pressed tightly to his. Remus pressed one hand to the small of her back to keep them balanced, but somehow she'd managed to back herself against the doorframe for support. When he finally broke away for a gulp of the icy air, he began admonishing himself. She was half his age, and his best mate's little cousin, and she was inebriated to boot.

"Nymphadora -"

"Its Tonks, Moony. You can call me Tonks, you know."

"We shouldn't have done this -"

"We haven't done much of anything, Remus. We kissed -"

"It was highly inappropriate of me to let you go on in your state," Remus ran a hand through his sandy hair, and caught Tonks frowning at him. "What?"

"I think you should go up to bed -"

"What?"

"You look dead tired, Remus. You didn't think I was suggesting I go to bed with you? I'm half sober, wouldn't be much good anyway." Tonks shrugged, closing the door behind her. "It was a Christmas tradition, Remus. Don't let it weigh on you so."

"I - I think I should go up to bed, then?" he was very confused.  
"I'm gonna clean up these bottles."

"Good night, then?"

"Night."

She waited until he'd been gone for five minutes before groaning and dropping her head in frustration. The kitchen door creaked back open, and Tonks head snapped up a bit too quickly. She groaned again when Charlie walked back in.

"Didn't go as well as you'd hoped?"

"If it did, I'd be snuggled into his bed right now doing a various amount of sinful things to him," she sighed.

"So the mistletoe didn't work then?" he said sympathetically.

"No, it worked. Just not enough."


	2. Seven Times He Fell: 21 for 21

Title: Seven Times He Fell  
Series: 21 for 21  
Author: jmaria  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: J.K. owns them, I just play with them.  
Pairing: Fred/Angelina  
Three Words prompt: purple, snowglobe, ivy  
Word Count: 718  
Summary: How many snubs can one girl take?  
Notes: 21 for 21 is my insane plan to write 21 ficlets for my birthday. . . except that people on lj give me a pairing and three words.  
Count: 7/21  
Dedication: to vikingwriter for the characters and the three words

__

Seven Times He Fell

She ignored him right out when he called her name in the crowded street in Hogsmeade. Served him right, for how many times he'd ignored her or broke a date because he was off running round with George or working on the products for their new joke shop? Didn't even send her an owl to let her know that everything was fine, that he hadn't fallen into a ditch and died. She wrapped her old Gryffindor scarf around her face more tightly and went on examining the ivy covered wall in front of her.

"Angelina, Angie!" Fred Weasley shoved his way over to her. He knew she'd be upset because of all the hours he'd been putting in at the shop.

"I'm not speakin to you, Fred," She yelled back, darting away from him the second he got close to her.

"What'd I do now, Angie?"

"Besides being a lousy mate and a lousy boyfriend? Nothing, not a bloody thing!" She huffed, making her way toward the Three Broomsticks.

"I got here on time, Angie. The shop's been busier than usual, it is the Christmas shopping rush."

"Oh, let's not let my match interrupt your sales, Fred," Angelina scoffed.

"I didn't know I wasn't gonna be able to make your match, Angie! You know George and I-" Angelina spun around on him with a murderous look in her eyes, cutting his explanation off.

"That's just it! You spend more time at your bloody store with your bloody brother than you do with me! I could ask you a thousand questions about me - and you'd probably only know half the answers to them. I could ask you five questions about the shop and you'd get every single one right. I'm sick of being third place, Fred."

She stormed into the Three Broomsticks, ordered a pint and angrily drank at one of the secluded booths. It wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, so the pub was shockingly half empty. Her throat hurt and her eyes ached, but she swallowed down the bitter liquor. She'd gotten half way through it when a heavy cardboard box slammed down onto the table. She jumped and gaped up at a very angry looking Fred.

"What the bloody hell -"

"I'm a bad mate and a bad boyfriend? Those were your words, right?"

"Fred, you're making a bloody scene!" She hissed.

"Wouldn't know half the answers to questions about you?"

"Fred, stop it!"

He took out seven items, laid them flat on the table. Angelina stared at them, recognizing some of them. She looked up at him, confusion in her brown eyes. He pointed to a dried ivy leaf.

"From the Yule ball, our sixth year when Snape nearly caught us in the gardens. You were afraid the bushes would tear your gown, so I put a spell on em for you. All you walked out of there was an ivy leaf in your hair. George, Alicia, Lee and Katie teased us about it."

"I'd almost forgotten that," she groaned.

The next thing he pointed to was a ratty piece of purple cloth. _That_ she remembered. She glanced up at his face, her fingers reverently touching the cloth.

"What's left of the scarf your gran made you before she died. Flint threw it in one of the fireplaces when we beat them that first game second year. It was all I managed to save for you."

One by one, he went through the rest of the items. From the stolen key to the room where they'd first made love, to the mug she'd made him in her muggle pottery class she was taking, to the first Daily Prophet clipping about her success on the Harpies, to the Quidditch snow globe he'd made her. The last thing she didn't recognize. It was a small wooden box. She frowned at it.

_"This _is why I was missed your match."

He flipped it open to reveal a stunning golden ring with a citrine and ruby setting. Her mouth dropped open, and she could feel him grinning at her. She blinked back tears.

"Well, will you marry me, or not Angie?"

"You're an evil man, Fred Weasley," she said in a husky voice.

"That's why you love me," he grinned. "Well?"

"Yes, you bloody idiot, of course I will!"


	3. Traitors We Two: 22 for 22

Series:22 for 22  
Title: Traitors We Two  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-15  
Disclaimer: J.K. owns Millicent and Percy. I own nothing, save the plot.  
Fandom(s): Harry Potter  
Character(s): Millicent Bulstrode/Percy Weasley  
Spoilers: Book Six.  
Summary: Drinking doesnt always take the hurt away, but the company might do nicely for that.  
Words: 466  
A/N: The title (which bears striking resemblance to the insanity of last year's titles) was inspired by watching one too many PotC vids on you tube. Also, bars seem to be a very common theme in my Millie/Percy fics. Hmm.  
Dedication: To fran06, who requested the characters and the quote.

**__**

Twenty-Two for Twenty-Two

Traitors We Two  
The Leaky Cauldron

* * *

_And for that very special day_  
_Nobody loved me in that way._

_~ Forget Me Not, Lucie Silvas_

* * *

Percy wasn't quite sure how he had gotten to the pub. He didn't remember leaving the office - no, he didn't leave on his own power, he did remember that little nugget of truth. Was it Wood who had taken the contents of his desk and put them into the box sitting beside Percy on the next stool? He just remembered the bottom of his glass getting empty, and then the girl.

Three years. He should have remembered her after three years. A stupidly drunken fourteen - no, she'd been fifteen at the time, she'd made a point of saying that repeatedly- had snogged him in one of the corridors leading to the dungeon. He'd been too shocked himself to say anything then. Too ashamed to say anything after, when he recognized her sitting with the Slytherin table the morning after Cedric Diggory's death. She hadn't said anything either.

She'd changed a little over the years. While still being a big girl, she'd gotten a bit leaner and definitely looked more worn. She was arguing with Tom, the Cauldron's owner the second she stepped through the door.

"All I want is a couple of drinks, and you're certainly not my keeper," she'd complained when Tom first refused to give her a drink. She snatched up Percy's second full shot glass of Firewhiskey and tossed it back. Percy didn't even really care. The girl only smirked at him and ordered two more shots. Tom had frowned, but both of them were beyond caring what the pub owner thought.

And then Percy remembered the distinct lack of words for the next two hours. He stopped counting the shots in his mind, stopped thinking what his parents/boss/professors/peers would think for the first time in his life. He remembered her eyes and the suggestive smirk there, the acknowledgement of something more. He didn't know how they got to her place, and with hands bruising their way over skin and teeth and lips finding purchase on their lips and necks, it didn't really matter. Two traitors needing the release of their skins, the comfortable nakedness of the truth.

They were both traitors, one for siding with false logic, the other for bucking tradition and leaving her past behind her. And none of it mattered except for the hard mattress beneath them, their limbs entwined as their pulses set the rhythm and pace.

Percy never understood why the former Slytherin girl had kissed him, either the night three years ago or three hours ago in the half-empty pub, but waking up with Millicent Bulstrode beside him - not because he was a Weasley and could be used - made it okay.


	4. Alone More Than I'd Care to Be:22 for 22

****************

********

********

********

****

Series: 22 for 22  
Title: Alone More Than I'd Care to Be  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-15  
Disclaimer: JK owns them. I own the plot.  
Fandom(s): Harry Potter  
Character(s): Millicent Bulstrode  
Spoilers: Post HBP  
Summary: I'm tired of feeling this way  
Words: 398  
A/N: Set in the summer before book seven. Also, oooh, bonus character, cuz I can't resist my shipping mind  
Dedication: To vampiric_mcd, who requested the characters and the quote source.

_Twenty-Two for Twenty-Two_

_Alone More Than I'd Care to Be  
Bulstrode Manor_

****************

**

* * *

**

************************

_Are you looking down upon me?  
__Are you proud of who I am?_  
_There's nothing I wouldn't to do_  
_To have just one more chance_  
_To look into your eyes and see you looking back_

************_~ Hurt, Christina Aquilera_

Everything and everyone was gone, had been since Snape had killed Dumbledore. No one was safe on the streets these days. People disappeared only to be found dead days later. Her parents - the sad, sorry excuses they'd always had been - hadn't gotten that kind of death. They'd died in some battle with the Order, and as punishment, the Ministry had taken everything.

That they had sent that spineless sap Weasley to strip her of her life was not an irony lost to her. They'd even taken the chair beneath her, no look of remorse in their eyes. As if she would follow in her parents footsteps and join up with the great snake man. Why? Her parents allegiance to him had never done her any good, it had only given her more grief.

"Miss Bulstrode, we'll need to meet with you to fill out the acquisition forms for the seizure of the estate," Percy Weasley said in a very neutral voice.

"So I need to give you the okay to take everything from me?" Millicent snapped, her arms around herself protectively." So you can feel okay with abandoning a sixteen year old witch to the world without a knut because the damn ministry needs to prove that its actually doing something against Him?"

Percy hadn't said anything, and Millicent was done with the Ministry's bullshit. He kept writing, as she watched every good memory she ever had in her home disappear. He handed her two pieces of parchment. One was the acquisition form she was sorely tempted to rip into tiny shreds. The other had been torn from the bottom of another piece of parchment. She looked at him quizzically.

"Displacement hostel for young witches and wizards," Percy said quietly. "They provide you with three square meals a day and set you up with a job to get you back on your feet. I've lived there. It's quite nice and safe."

Millicent blinked at his sincere tone and the look of understanding in his eyes. Percy gave her small smile before continuing.

"We'll need to set up an appointment with you for next week to go over the acquisition evaluation."


	5. Thousand Faces to the World: 22 for 22

Series:

22 for 22  
Title: Girl With a Thousand Faces to the World  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-15  
Disclaimer: J.K. owns them. I own the plot.  
Fandom(s): Harry Potter  
Character(s): Remus/Tonks  
Spoilers: During OotP  
Summary: And only he can tell them all apart.  
Words: 261  
A/N: because I like a good bar story. *g*

Dedication:

To purplesoap, who requested the characters and the quote source.

**_Twenty-Two for Twenty-Two_**  
_Girl With a Thousand Faces to the World_  
_12 Grimmwald Place_

_I can't believe you had a life before me_  
_I can't believe they let you run around free_  
_Just putting your body wherever it seemed like a good idea_  
_What a good idea_

_~ Jealousy, Liz Phair_

* * *

Only three things or people could ever tell her apart from any other average girl on the street. One had been Sirius - in the two years she'd become reaquinted with her mother's cousin. The other had been the Black home, which apparently could spot Black blood a quarter of a mile away.

And then there was Remus Lupin, best friend of her cousin's, former Hogwarts professor, and dead sexy werewolf. Not that Tonks could bring herself to say it, at least not in the face he was most familiar with anyways.

She'd tried it once on him, the whole-different person thing on him. She'd slunk up to him in a pub, her vampy-girl face and body on for wear. Before she'd even hit on him, he'd called her by her proper pain-in-the-arse name.

"Nymphadora, I can tell it's you," Remus had said quietly over her head, shielding her from the rest of the pub possessively. "What would your mother say if she saw you like this?"

"'Prolly to stop wastin' me charms on an old wolf like you", Tonks batted her eyelashes at him innocently.

"You need to go, now," Remus said in a low, growl-y voice that made her shiver excitedly.

Well, at least she'd gotten some sort of rise out of him. At least it was a start.


	6. The Best Gift: 12 Days of Christmas

Series: Twelve Days of Christmas  
Title: December Twenty-Sixth  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-15  
Disclaimer: J.K. owns Tonks, Lupin, and Andromeda.  
Fandom(s): Harry Potter  
Character(s): Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks  
Spoilers: OotP  
Summary: Not all gifts come to us on Christmas Day  
Words: 215  
Series A/N: Twelve stories that had been part of the _22 for 22_ fic requests. All stories are set in the tradition of Little Christmas. According to Christian (at least Catholic tradition) Little Christmas are the twelve days preceding Christmas Day (the day Christ was born) to the sixth of January (the arrival of the three wise men and the giving of their gifts). Various pairings, characters, and ratings included.  
A/N: Went in a very different direction than I had originally had intended  
Dedication: To sarah200, who requested the characters.

_Twelve Days of Christmas_  
_December Twenty-Sixth_

_Hogsmeade_

"Not all Christmas gifts came on Christmas day," Andromeda Tonks was fond of saying. For once, her headstrong rebel daughter was in full agreement with her mother. Their first kiss, a stolen moment's slight brushing of lips in a broom cupboard that was purely innocent had happened on the twenty-sixth of December, at 3 minutes past midnight. Their first earnest kiss had come nearly a year later, stolen once again in said broom-cupboard as Remus headed off on some secret mission she couldn't join him on. The year following that they had learned of Sirius's fate on the twenty-sixth of December, a ghostly visitor came wishing them well in their future life together.

And it was four years after the death of Sirius Black and a year following the defeat of Tom 'Lord Voldemort' Riddle at the hands of Harry Potter that Remus and Nymphadora Tonks Lupin welcomed their eight pounds and ten ounces daughter Roslyn Theodora Lupin into the Wizarding community. On December twenty-sixth, five years after that little kiss they had shared so innocently, the happy new parents shared an equally innocent kiss over the head of their sleeping baby.

And for once Tonks Lupin agreed with her mother. Even if she'd given Tonks the absolutely worst name a mother could ever give her child.


	7. Moving On: 12 Days of Christmas

Series: Twelve Days of Christmas  
Title: January Second  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-15  
Disclaimer: JK owns all things Harry Potter  
Fandom(s): Harry Potter  
Character(s): Harry/Hermione  
Spoilers: AU after OotP, set five years in the future  
Summary: Not all gifts come to us on Christmas Day - making something out of nothing  
Words: 381  
A/N: Character death implied.  
Dedication: To philstar22, who requested the characters.

_**Twelve Days of Christmas**  
January Second  
Hogsmeade_

Life had not turned out properly for the great wizarding hero. He could no longer be an auror because of his celebrity, his injuries from the final battle with Voldemort had ruined his chances of a Quidditch career, and while he dearly loved Hogwarts, he had no intention of ever teaching there.

So here he was, getting completely pissed on Firewhiskey only two days into the new year to help repress all the ugly memories the years before had left trapped in his mind. He barely noticed the woman who slid onto the bar stool next to him until her hand rested gently on his.

"I think you've had enough, Harry," Hermione said softly.

"Who asked you?" Harry grumped, knowing she was right, but he was not in the mood to let her know that he knew she was right.

"Harry, it couldn't be helped. You tried to save them, and it just wasn't possible. You couldn't be in two places at one time," Hermione said quietly. "You did everything in your power to stop them from making that choice. They knew what they were getting themselves into."

"Not everything. I could have gotten hold of a time turner -"

"Harry Potter! You could never saved them all. If you'd gone back for Seamus and Dean, you would have left Luna on her own. And you wouldn't have been in time to save Draco and Ginny."

"Two friends _died_ because of me. Because I chose _Draco Malfoy's_ life over theirs!" Harry shouted. "Ron was in a coma for months, and he's still recovering. Luna's scarred, and Ginny's fallen for that idiot -"

That statement should have hurt, it had hurt for a long time. He'd saved Draco Malfoy and that git had run off with his girl. It should still hurt, but oddly enough, it didn't.

"And Ron's fallen for Luna, scars and radishes and all. And Seamus and Dean would not want you sitting here, now two years after their deaths pretending to exist. Don't you realize we'd all be dead if it weren't for you, Harry? None of us would have walked out of there alive. I know wouldn't have. I'd have been the first to die," Hermione sighed. "Please stop killing yourself over something that can't be changed, Harry."


	8. Cloak and Dagger Nonsense: 12 DoC

Series:Twelve Days of Christmas  
Title: January Sixth  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-15  
Disclaimer: JK owns all things Harry Potter  
Fandom(s): Harry Potter  
Character(s): Severus Snape/Nymphandora Tonks  
Spoilers: au-OotP  
Summary: Not all gifts come to us on Christmas Day - the hidden wealth  
Words: 768  
A/N: It changed a few times, but I think Im happy with this version.  
Dedication: To purplesoap, who requested the characters.

**_Twelve Days of Christmas  
_**_January Sixth_**  
**_12 Grimmauld Place_

Severus Snape was increasingly annoyed by the younger woman's rambunctious laughter. Her hand was in an intimate position on the back of his neck, her head tilted closely to his ear. She laughed again and reached forward for another cookie. Snape gritted his teeth as she was surrounded by light and laughter again.

"She's something special, isn't she, Snivellus?" Sirius sneered, nodding toward the young woman Snape was determined not to look at, but was failing not to do so.

"Whom are you referring to?" Snape said dryly, trying desperately not to rise to the bait.

"She and Charlie make a great pair. Young, vibrant, healthy couple -"

"Did I give you the notion that I was even slightly interested in speaking about this?"

"You did the second you started staring at my little cousin, Snivellus," Anger rippled in Sirius's voice. "You already got your chance to obsess over one of my cousins, and Tonks is not Narcissa."

"I was not -"

"You're Draco's godfather."

"Sirius! Molly wants to make sure youve eaten today," Tonks had untangled herself from Charlie long enough to catch part of the conversation between the two men. Uncertainty flashed in her eyes as she looked between the two of them. "She's whipped up a feast for the lot of us. Have you eaten yet, Snape?"

"I have," Snape turned and - well, he wouldn't term it fleeing, but he stalked away from the twin annoyances in his life.

Not ten minutes later, hidden in the old private den Sirius's father had once used to hide away from his controlling wife, Snape found himself annoyed once again by her presence.

"You really shouldn't let him get to you like that, Severus," Tonks closed the door gently behind her. Her eyes were hooded as she gazed at his back. "It only encourages him."

"Yes, to push that Weasley brat at you and rub salt in the wounds," Snape winced at the whine in his own words.

"Charlie and me have been mates for years. I can't even imagine him in - uughhh. I don't get what all the girls see in him. And I'm not the one who said 'let's do keep whatever this is between us between just us', those words came out of _your_ mouth, not mine."

"I'm quite aware of what I said," Snape snapped, cloaks billowing around him darkly.

"Then don't let my idiot of a cousin annoy you so much. Or, you know, make a bloody move on me in front of everyone so we don't have to keep this arse-backward charade up. I am so sick of shagging in secret and havin' to feign interest in old schoolmates just to warm you up to the idea!"

"Nymphadora, -"

"Don't you even call me that, you know I hate it when you call me that!" Tonks snapped, her finger jabbing into his chest. "I'm so sick of having to pretend I haven't got this amazingly intelligent bloke for a boyfriend and trying to hide it all from the people who owe him a helluva lot."

"Tonks -"

"No, why have I got to hide at all?" Tonks eyes sparkled brightly in the dim light of the den. "So Sirius doesn't fancy you? So you're an utter bastard to Harry at times? So you're a turncoat and a traitor? So you're older than me? Do I actually look like I give a damn?"

"Tonks, you will let me get a word in, won't you?" Snape sighed, pulling her close to him.

"I-"

"You have listed, quite accurately every reason they will try and kill me for daring to be with you," he would not laugh at her grunt of frustration.

"Don't say youre doing this for me, because it is killing me not to run to you every time someone gets hurt or rumors buzz bout you and Voldemort and - and I'm getting clumsier by the day. I can't hide this much longer, Severus."

"But -"

"We must, because the Potion's Master deems it so," Tonks sighed, finishing for him. "Because the fate of the Wizarding world weighs down so heavily on the false sneer of the evil Potion's Master."

"Because your idiot cousin still believes he's actually hurting me, and I long to see his face when we finally do tell them," the chuckle was low and vibrated along the delicate skin at her temple.

Outside the door to his father's den, Sirius shook his head. He'd never give Snape the satisfaction of being surprised that his little Nymphie had fallen for the Potion's Master. Neither one could lie worth a damn when it came to that.


	9. It's No Sacrifice: 23 for 23

Series: 23 for 23  
Title: Twelve: Its No Sacrifice, Being With You  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-15  
Disclaimer: I own the World Walker & Miranda, J.K. Rowling owns HP..  
Spoilers: Slightly au!DH, and spoilers for the story so far of The Many Qualities of Mercy  
Series Summary: Twenty-three stories and crossings of worlds (read: insanity) to celebrate twenty-three years.  
Part Summary: Seeing someone off on the train to Hogwarts.  
Words: 361  
A/N: First quote comes from the third into, second comes from _Bad Time_ by Grand Funk Railroad. Set in the Mirandaverse.  
Dedication: To fran06 for the fandoms and prompt.

**__**

23 for 23

  
Twelve: Its No Sacrifice, Being With You__

There was nothing worth wanting. The gift she got was a face of reality scooped up with the need to continually pretend that it was going to be just fine when she knew it was never going to be just fine again.

I feel like I'm wearing it out.

It was unusual for a professor to get well wishers on his way off to Hogwarts. A blush crept up his neck as hundreds of school children rushed about them, greeting friends and hugging family goodbye. Percy struggled with his case, which wasn't very large seeing as he had sent most of his things ahead.

Behind him Millicent waited, her daughter - _his_ niece nestled against her hip. A smile crested his lips at the sight, his heart clenching at the thought of being so far away from them. Because of his duty to protect Fred's girls. They were _Fred's_ girls, his lover and his daughter. But each passing day, he couldn't help but wonder if they were slowly becoming _his_ girls as well. His niece, and his...Millicent. Percy shook the thought quickly away and went over to them, motioning for Millicent to let him hold the baby for the last time in quite a while. At least until the first Hogsmeade weekend.

His thoughts soured a little at that. Perhaps it was too much of a reminder of Fred, the village. It had been _their_ place. And there were still the never-ending Sunday luncheons at the Burrow. There would still be that.

"Professor Weasely, are you a bit nervous?" Millicent's voice interrupted his thoughts, and he felt his face go a bit red.

"I - well, _yes_," Percy shrugged as Miranda burrowed herself sleepily into his shoulder.

"You'll be fine, Perce. I know it."

"I wish I had your confidence, Mill," Percy smiled at her surety, taking comfort in the small child wrapped in his arms.

There wasn't much more time to speak, as the collective Weasely clan had gathered to see Percy off on the train. Soon it was time to go, and with one more glance to see if Mill and Randa were indeed still safe, he quickly boarded. While the other Weaselys had already turned to go, and were in fact, _leaving _the platform, Millicent stood there, clutching Miranda tightly to her. Percy gave her once last wave as the Hogwarts Express began to pull out of the station.

"None of those tears now, poppet," Millicent sniffled, hiding her face in the top of her daughte'rs hair. "Uncle Percy'll be back sooner than we think, you'll see."


	10. Never the Same Way Twice: 23 for 23

Series: 23 for 23  
Title: Twenty-One: Never the Same Way Twice  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-15  
Disclaimer: I own the World Walker, JK owns All.  
Spoilers: AU!post OotP, set in my Interoffice Stereotypes universe.  
Series Summary: Twenty-three stories and crossings of worlds (read: insanity) to celebrate twenty-three years.  
Part Summary: You can know someone for a lifetime and never see them for what they are…  
Words: 1060  
A/N: First quote comes from the fifth into, second comes from _I'm So Tired_ by The Beatles. Connected to the _Interoffice Stereotypes _story. This is how Katie, er, _met_ Flint.

_**23 for 23**  
Twenty-One: Never the Same Way Twice_

_There was no great bang. There was some semblance of peace and the worlds, words and faces flowed through her mind._

_I wonder should I call you, but I know what you would do._

"I have never, ever felt so violated," Katie Bell huffed, teetering a little on her feet. "I mean, the _nerve_ of that man! Expecting me to just _fawn _all over him for seven _years_? And then he doesn't even have the decency to cheat on me decently?"

"There's a decent way to be cheated on?" her companion asked gruffly. He had a nice voice, but the love of Merlin, she couldn't place his face to save her life. Of course, she'd just consumed the better half of a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey. Merlin knew, she might not even be able to recognize her _own _face.

"Of course! She's got to be _amazingly hideous_," Katie narrowed her eyes. "And it has to be when he's _completely pissed_."

"Sober as a priest, eh?"

"And she's divine and sweet, and he was _comforting_ her! Ugh, it's enough to make me vomit!"

"Might be the drink."

"Oi, don't you go besmirching my drink!" Katie gasped. "It's my very best mate right now!"

"Getting you completely pissed makes you rather eloquent, doesn't it, Bell?"

"You know, you keep using my name like you know me, but for the life of Harry Potter, I cannot place you one teeny tiny little bit. Why is that?" Katie grumbled, poking at his stomach. Which was surprisingly fit and not at all flabby as that appalling shirt made him look. "Do you do lots of abdominal crunches then?"

"Suppose so," came the gruff reply.

Katie peered up at him. Dark hair, squared jaw, dark eyes, and the straightest, sexiest smirk she'd seen on a bloke in ages. Oliver was definitely dethroned in that category, along with his title of boyfriend. Stupid Scottish bastard. Wait a minute.

"I know that smirk!" Katie huffed, slapping a palm to his chest. "I was on the receiving end of that bloody smirk for nearly four years, weren't I? You are a right bastard, Flint! Lettin' me go on and on and all this time -"

Flint caught her wrist in his hand, cutting off her spiel just by his touch. A shiver skittered up her spine that had nothing at all to do with the chilly temperature or her skimpy outfit. She blinked twice before she realized neither one of them had spoken for several moments.

"You clear now, Bell?"

"What?"

"Had a moment there, looked like you'd be sick," The smirk disappeared and he glanced up the alleyway. "You live in Muggle London, right? Grab you a taxi to get you home."

"How did you know that?" Katie frowned at him. And why would Flint care about her getting a taxi home?

"You said that you chucked Wood out of your flat and snapped away his clothes, remember? Cackled like a loon goin' on about how he ran naked up the street," Flint gave a tiny smirk at that. "Not less than he deserved, mind you. Chucking you over for that simpering Clearwater chit."

"Penny's not a bad person. She'd just lost a lot," Katie chewed her lip. "But thank you for saying that. Even if you don't really mean it."

"Mean what?"

"I'm no great beauty, and I'm an awful drunk. And I harp on and on about Quidditch and I pick apart other players and I'm definitely not a girly-girl who needs a big strong Keeper for every tiny little thing -"

"_That's_ what that stupid git said to you?" Flint's face darkened into a fierce scowl. It was far more intimidating than any he'd shown on the Quidditch pitch in all the years she'd known him. "Dumb bastard ought to be shot for his stupidity. And his utter blindness."

Katie's smile wobbled a bit. Merlin knew what came over her, but the next _she_ knew she was standing in front of him leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. Her fingertips brushed over his nape and she pulled him closer. At the last minute, she changed her own direction and pressed her lips to his. Flint was tense. She could feel that in both his lips and the chorded muscles of his neck and shoulders.

Her mouth drew down into frown after several seconds of no response. God, what she been thinking? Just because Flint was being uncharacteristically nice to her didn't mean he'd actually meant it. She was a drunken, blubbering mess. Katie tottered back on the her heels and plastered a depressing little smile to her face.

"And now I've made myself even more pathetic. Accosting my ex's schoolmate enemy all because he's being nice. Of course, Flint, you've never been nice to anyone who's played against you so I don't know why now would be any different -" Katie blustered on, turning away from him. God, this was humiliating. Where the hell were her mates? Oh, that's right, they're off with the Twins being sickeningly in love with each other. Her words choked her. "I'll just floo myself home. Thanks though."

"Are you out of your mind?" Flint boomed, catching her wrist again and drawing her back gently. "You'd smash your head in on the fireplace."

"Really, you're just making this worse," Katie blinked back the hot, embarrassing tears before they had a chance to escape.

"Hell," Flint ground out before his lips met hers again.

Katie gasped, her arms twining around his neck like some romance heroine moments before the ravishment. His big capable hands grasped her at waist and nape, but the pressure wasn't what she'd expected. He handled her like she was a fragile bit of porcelain. Katie hissed out a groan, her hand clenching in the shaggy mess of his hair. Her tongue dipped into his mouth, putting him at a loss for a turn. His hand fell from her neck to join the other on her waist, pinning her his bigger frame. A groan slipped from her lips as she felt him straining against her. Bloody hell. She'd wasted eight years pining over Wood when Flint was - well, made of stone. She giggled at that thought, which ended the second kiss.

"Marcus," Katie pouted as he started to pull away. "What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_?" Marcus growled at her. "You just _giggled _at me during our snog."

"No I didn't!" Katie fisted her hands in his collar. "I giggled at myself."

"Huh?"

"Oh, shut up and snog me, Marcus Flint."


	11. The Girl Without the Tattoo: 23 for 23

Series: 23 for 23  
Title: Twenty-Two: The Girl Without the Tattoo  
Author: Jmaria  
Rating: FR-15  
Disclaimer: I own the World Walker, JK owns All.  
Spoilers: AU verse. Events of book 7 did not happen.  
Series Summary: Twenty-three stories and crossings of worlds (read: insanity) to celebrate twenty-three years.  
Part Summary: Meeting at the Quidditch Match.  
Words: 698  
A/N: First quote comes from the fifth into, second comes from _Crazy_ by Gnarls Barkley.  
This story changed three times. I saved the other versions for future use.

_**23 for 23**  
Twenty-Two: The Girl Without the Tattoo_

_There was no great bang. There was some semblance of peace and the worlds, words and faces flowed through her mind._

_But think twice, that's my only advice._

The stadium was packed with rabid Quidditch fans eager to watch the match between the Harpies and the Falcons. Fred Weasley could barely find a seat for himself. It was a damned good thing the twin wasn't with him. Of course, that idiot was down near the Harpies box fawning over his fiancé Alicia. He plopped down in the empty bench, trying not to be bitter that his twin had abandoned him.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" the woman beside him muttered. "Try _hitting _the damned bludger like a man!"

Fred smirked at the shake of her head. She hunched forwards, acting as if she had some personal stake in the game. Like everyone had back in school. Her dark hair fluttered forward as she huffed in frustration.

"Enjoying the match?"

"I'd enjoy it better in Smythe got his head out of his arse and grew a bloody pair of balls!" She snapped. "You'd think he'd never hit a damned bludger before. He's a beater for Merlin's sake! Act like it!"

Her spine stiffened suddenly, and she glanced over at him through the dark sweep of hair. Fred grinned at her cheekily, enjoying having gotten her off guard. She narrowed her eyes and quickly snapped her head back to the game.

"Bloody Flint should've known better than to trust a damned Ravenclaw to the position of Beater."

"It's a time honored tradition to beat sense into Beaters the hard way," Fred leaned closer, to be heard over the groaning/cheering of the crowds. "Besides, he's never had much sense anyway."

"Flint or Smythe?"

"Never knew Smythe, so I can't speak on that, now can I?" Fred glanced up at the twitchy Beater. "He'll be a bloody mess by the end of the match."

"_If_ he makes it," she snorted.

"I'm -"

"I know who you are," she cut him off, her dark eyes sparing him a glance again. "And seeing as the other one's down there pacing like an expectant father, I even know which _one_ you are."

"Then you're a step ahead of me," He chuckled.

"Of course, your reputation precedes you," she muttered.

"I shudder at the thought," Fred glanced down at her dark green jumper. He added it to the fact that she favored the Falcons. "Let me guess, 'red-hair and hand-me down robes'?"

A deep throated chuckle escaped her lips as she glanced up at him. Fred grinned at the response. Just because she'd once been a Slytherin didn't mean he couldn't flirt with her. Part of him enjoyed that fact a bit too much.

"I believe Malfoy phrased it differently when it came to you and the twin. Something to do with dragonhide suits? 'Bastards wearing it like it's the next superfine' ?" She grinned at him, her eyes darting back to the pitch. "Dammit, Smythe, your arse is crisped the next time I see you."

"You've got an awful hate on the poor lad," Fred remarked. She was more involved than the rest of the fans around them.

"Seeing as he's takin' my spot, you're damned right I'm hating on him hard," she muttered, a flash of a white cast on her left wrist caught his eyes.

"Ahh, explains so much," Fred nodded.

"You don't know who I am, do you?" she tore her attention away from the match for a full minute, which was saying quite a lot about her.

"You're a beater for the Falcons, you used to be a Slytherin, you're a contemporary of Malfoy's and you hate that Smythe is god-awful as a beater," Fred hazarded a guess.

"Classmate," she turned back to the game. "I was in his year."

"Still doesn't give me a name," he leaned closer.

"You never asked for one."

"Consider yourself asked then."

She narrowed her eyes at him, studying him intently for a few moments. The crowds around them cheered as the Quaffle went through the goal. Which goal, neither could be bothered to pay attention to guess.

"That line work often for you?"

"Dunno, never had to use it before."

"Bulstrode," she answered. "Millicent Bulstrode."

"Now that that's settled, whaddya say to a pint after the match, Millie?"

"I'd say you're damned presumptuous."


End file.
